


The Angel Puriel

by Anonymous



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gentleness, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape, Rape Recovery, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22149568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: This was inspired by a prompt on the kink meme.https://good-omens-kink.dreamwidth.org/3161.html?thread=1774169#cmt1774169I looked up angel names online and found one I liked. Puriel is described as being "fiery and pitiless."
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57
Collections: Good Omens Kink Meme Anonymous





	1. The Angel Puriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter is non-con and very explicit. This is rape by an obscure angel. The second chapter is recovery, but includes references to non-con.
> 
> I wrote this from a prompt on the kink meme:
> 
> https://good-omens-kink.dreamwidth.org/3161.html?thread=1774169#cmt1774169
> 
> I looked up angel names for my villain. The angel Puriel is described as "fiery and pitiless."

Crowley was walking from the bakery to the bookshop, bearing gifts. It was cold, and dark early, but that was to be expected – January in London. 

What was not to be expected was a sudden surge of angelic energy, accompanied by a muscular young man with dull brown hair. He was hard to see somehow, almost a blur. Crowley wouldn’t have been able to describe his face, or even identify what he was wearing. 

Angels, aside from his very special one, were bad news.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” 

“I am Puriel. I’ve come to see you.”

“Well, there you are. You’ve seen me. Now go back where you belong.”

“No.” The angel caught his shoulder with a remarkably strong grip. “I understand that you’ve defiled one of our Host.”

“I haven’t defiled anybody. Aziraphale is with me of his own free will. Not that it’s any of your business.” Crowley maintained a cool appearance, despite being wary of Puriel, and not liking the way he was gripping him.

“I’ve come to mete out justice for your crimes.”

“Armageddon didn’t happen. Nobody’s judging anyone. God approves of us.”

Puriel pulled him closer, so close that their mouths almost aligned. “I don’t care about Armageddon, and I don’t believe She approves of you. You’re coming with me” The angel tossed some glittering golden dust at Crowley, who suddenly fell into Puriel’s arms. 

The angel easily hauled him into an alleyway and behind a bin. Crowley realized he had no control over his own body. He was wide awake, but as limp as if he were asleep. Puriel had angelic strength, and Crowley had nothing.

“Let’s take care of these extra coverings. Too inconvenient.” Puriel snapped his fingers and the demon was left in his vest and pants. He tried to object, but he couldn’t speak any more than he could move. He couldn’t even close his eyes.

The angel laid Crowley on his back. Crowley could feel the cold pavement, and he realized he was in serious trouble.

Puriel ran his hands over the demon’s chest.

*Keep your fucking hands off me!* went through Crowley’s mind, but he couldn’t speak, and that was almost as frightening as the rest.

“Look at you. Skin and bones. It’s going to be almost as much of a punishment for me as for you. Nice smooth skin though.” He smiled and stroked Crowley’s chest, then tweaked one of his nipples. “So erect! Are you cold, or are you enjoying this?” 

Crowley struggled within himself. He could feel the pinch, and he wanted to jerk away. He didn’t want this strange angel touching him. But he couldn’t move, and he couldn’t call out.

The angel ran his hands over Crowley’s belly. “Look at that. No navel. Nothing but nice smooth skin. I thought only angels were made that way, but I guess I’m learning something new today!” He edged his hands down to Crowley’s pants. “And so are you, aren’t you?” 

Puriel slowly stroked up to Crowley’s shoulders. “Very nice. I bet you’re strong when you’re not on your back under me. You could put up a real fight then, couldn’t you? But not now. You’re all mine.”

*No I’m not! I’m not yours, and I’d kick your ass for you if I could fucking MOVE!*

Puriel framed Crowley’s face with his hands. “Your eyes are almost pretty, for a demon.” He moved in for a kiss, all tongue and wet pressure. 

Crowley desperately tried to struggle, tried to get this creep OFF of him. Instead he had a good close-up look at the angel’s face, and couldn’t move an inch. 

Puriel broke off the kiss, if it could be called a kiss. He looked him up and down as if he were a doll. 

“I like the hair. It’s longer than it was in the picture.” He ran his fingers through it for a moment, pulled on it, and laughed. “So red!”

*WHY DID I GROW MY HAIR OUT* Crowley thought – *if I’d kept it short this asshole wouldn’t be fooling with it.*

“The tattoo kind of ruins you, though.”

Puriel abruptly flipped Crowley over. His face was shoved into the wet pavement. 

The angel pushed up his vest and ran his hands down Crowley’s back, where his wings would be if he could bring them out – but they were trapped inside. 

“Pretty from both sides.”

Puriel brought his hands down to Crowley’s hips and laughed. “I’m looking forward to this.” He groped and cupped the demon’s ass. “This is all mine.”

He flipped the demon over again, then pulled on his pants until they tore and exposed him. *FUCK FUCK FUCK* thought Crowley.

“LOOK at that! Such a pretty cock. I bet you have a lot of fun with that thing, you and your traitor angel.” Puriel stroked Crowley, and to his horror his body responded. 

“You really are enjoying this!” the angel laughed. “What a filthy thing you are, getting off on this. You’d like anything, wouldn’t you? You’re going to love the rest! It’s not going to be much of a punishment, is it?”

Crowley desperately struggled inside, wanting to kill Puriel, but he couldn’t move at all as the angel fondled him, then laughed and pressed a kiss onto his cock. 

Puriel turned the demon over again, flopping him onto the pavement face-down on the pavement. 

*NO NO NO!*

The angel arranged Crowley as he wanted him, shoving his knees forward so that his ass was pushed up. 

*NO NO NO NO NO NO!*

Puriel shoved a painful finger into Crowley. “Huh, tight. Guess you haven’t been doing as much of this as I thought.” Another dry finger pushed into him. The demon was screaming inside, desperate for this not to happen. 

“And now here’s your punishment. Not that much of a punishment now that I see how filthy you are.” The angel grabbed Crowley’s hair, and used the other hand to guide his cock to the demon’s hole. 

*NO NO NO NO!*

Puriel jammed into him and all Crowley could feel was pain and horror. 

“Oh, yes, so good! So tight it almost hurts! To think this is all mine!”

It went on for long minutes that seemed like hours to Crowley. It hurt and it was horrible and it was *embarrassing*, this nasty angel touching and looking and taking the most private parts of him. He desperately wished he was anywhere else, trying but failing to retreat into his mind. He never was very good at that. 

Suddenly the pressure of the air changed around him, and Puriel roughly pulled out. Crowley felt himself exposed to the cold air. 

He heard the muffled boom of wings unfurling, and then something he had only heard once or twice before. It was the sound of a flaming sword unsheathed. He could feel the heat. 

“YOU WILL STEP AWAY FROM HIM.” And there was only one voice it could be. He knew that voice well – and it spoke with a calm, holy rage. There was a depth to the sound, and it carried through the earth and the air in supernatural tones. Crowley could feel it in his bones. 

Puriel fumbled to his feet. “I’m punishing it! It has to pay for – “

“STAND WHERE YOU ARE.”

“What are you talking about? It’s only a – “

“YOU ARE FINISHED.”

There was a scream, then silence and the smell of a lightning strike.

And then a blanket appeared from nowhere and wrapped around Crowley, covering him from neck to feet. It felt as if it had been warmed. Strong arms lifted him, and he put his arms around Aziraphale’s neck. He felt as if he were suddenly released from a spell. The pain inside was gone, and he suddenly found that he could move, and speak. 

“I guess… you can figure out what happened?” he squeaked. 

“I’m so sorry, dear boy.” Aziraphale’s voice was soothing, making Crowley feel safe. “I felt that you were in trouble, but it took me a little while to find you.”

“Just – just take me home. Not my flat. The bookshop.” 

“We’re only a block away. We’ll be there in a moment.”

Crowley leaned back against Aziraphale and let himself be carried. 

And then they were there, the bookshop, where all was peaceful and warm. There was a soft light, and Crowley thought, not for the first time, that it was not a lamp but Aziraphale himself quietly glowing. The blinds were closed, the doors were locked. Aziraphale set Crowley down on the sofa, and gave him a cup of tea with a good deal of something else in it. He drew a hot bath for Crowley, helped him into it, then left him alone. 

Crowley scrubbed himself with Aziraphale’s old-fashioned peppermint soap (the bottle was covered with semi-mystical ranting and demands that the soap be DILUTED OK), soaked for a long while, then dried himself with the warm towels he found there. Black terry pajamas and a robe had appeared when he wasn’t looking. He bundled up and came out to the sitting room. 

Crowley sunk into the sofa, his head in his hands. 

“I couldn’t move. I literally couldn’t move.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Not a weapon Heaven gave him. Some of the lesser angels concocted it, to give themselves an advantage in battle.”

“Well, it wasn’t much of a battle.”

“Not when I got there, it wasn’t. And I didn’t just discorporate him. He’s gone for good, and I dare say no one will miss him.”

“I – he touched me everywhere. Everywhere. My face, my hair, my – everywhere.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know what I want to do.”

“I don’t either, really. But we’ll work it out together. Right now we’ll have some more tea, would you like that?”

An angel and a demon sat together in a bookshop, safe.


	2. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is recovery and kindness. There is mention of non-con from the previous chapter, but it's not explicit at all. 
> 
> I realized that there was more to this. I couldn't just leave them there.

The two of them leaned back on a heap of pillows, sharing wine and snacks (Aziraphale promised to miracle the crumbs out of the bed), and listening to music that was a little bit slow for Crowley and a little bit fast for Aziraphale. 

After a good long companionable silence, Crowley spoke.

“It was a good thing you did, smiting that angel.”

They hadn’t talked much about it afterward. Crowley hadn’t shown any desire to, and Aziraphale didn’t want to pry. They spent more time together than they had before, Aziraphale feeling a bit protective, and Crowley feeling safe with him. They stayed closer in every way. They touched more. 

“The one good thing that happened that night was that I remembered how dangerous I am. It had never crossed my mind that I would need to be, anymore. I surprised myself a bit.”

“You were just… THERE. Wings and flaming sword and the whole thing. Like, well, an avenging angel.”

“It would have been impossible for me to do anything else.”

Crowley was silent for a while. 

“You know, I never saw his face. I looked at it, a hell of a lot closer than I wanted to, but his features just… blurred.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Masking. Another battle tactic the lesser angels have used. Never for any good purpose that I’ve heard of. If I hadn’t destroyed him, he could still be out there, and no one would have been the wiser.”

“It made it… Well. I couldn’t see him, but he could see me. He saw all of me. Threw me around, pawed at me, talked about me like I was some kind of… thing.”

“I wish I’d been there sooner. If only I could have spared you the worst of it.”

“The worst of it wasn’t… That. The act. It was all of it. He kept talking about me belonging to him.”

“You don’t belong to anyone but you.”

“And you. At least I hope I do.”

“You do, as I belong to you. As we belong to one another.”

They were quiet a while.

“Did it… put you off of me? We… didn’t, for a while, and I wondered.”

“Of course not. I just didn’t want to rush you, my dear, in case you were put off. I waited for you. But you’ve always been beautiful, and my love, and nothing so sordid could change that.”

“It’s been good since we got back to it. Feels good to use my body my way, the way I want to, not having it… used.” 

“You’ve come back to yourself that way. I’ve always known you were strong, you just proved it to me again.”

“I’ll prove something else to you if you get rid of these crumbs.”

The crumbs vanished and many good things were proven.


End file.
